


Scenes from an Inquisition - Moving In

by Schattenriss



Series: The Contours of Shadows [5]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Dragon Anatomy, Humor, M/M, One Shot, Relationship decisions, Romance, daily life in Skyhold
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-09
Updated: 2017-02-09
Packaged: 2018-09-23 03:00:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9638009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Schattenriss/pseuds/Schattenriss
Summary: The Inquisitor thinks it's high time Dorian move into his quarters at Skyhold.





	

**Author's Note:**

> _Scenes From an Inquisition_ came about because I didn't want to write an adaption of a playthrough of DAI, but there are in-between scenes that happened off-camera / out of game that I wanted to explore.
> 
> Each scene is complete and, depending on the content, may stick close to or stray far from canon. They will also vary in rating and complexity of plot. They likely won't be in strict chronological order.They all supplement the rest of the series of works featuring Kai Trevelyan, but can all be read as stand-alones.
> 
> Thanks to Eureka234 for the beta!
> 
> As always, feedback is welcomed!

[](https://i.imgur.com/vrpSlBA.png)

The sun was streaming in through a crack in the curtains, somehow contriving to hit me directly in the eyes. I rolled over with the intention of fashioning my pillow into a light-shield and saw Dorian sliding out of bed the way people do when they’re trying to be quiet.

“What are you doing?” I asked as I sat up and rubbed my eyes.

“Sun’s coming up. I thought I’d best get back to my quarters.” He stifled a yawn and smoothed his moustache.

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why should you go back to your quarters, of course.” I wasn’t awake enough to think of a clever comeback.

“Amatus, people are already talking. We don’t want to fuel the fire.”

“How exactly would your being here past this ghastly hour of the morning fuel the fire?”

“Do you know how many people are going to be milling about in the main hall in just a few short hours?”

 I snorted. “So? You never worry when we’re sharing a tent out in the field, and I assure you, canvas isn’t soundproof.”

“Yes, but this is Skyhold.” He pulled his shirt on, raked his fingers through his hair in a vain attempt to get it to behave.

“So what?

“So you’re the Inquisitor.”

I made a rude noise. “And?”

He smiled. “We should talk about this when you’re awake. I adore you, but before you’ve had coffee you are a terrible conversationalist.”

“Mnh. Fine. But we _are_ going to talk.”

“Count on it.” He finished getting dressed then leaned in to give me a kiss. “Go back to sleep. I’ll see you when you’re coherent.”

=#=

I think the worst part of getting back to Skyhold after being out in some maker-forsaken corner of Orlais or Ferelden for weeks was the people. Not my immediate circle or the ones who actually lived and worked at the great fortress, but all the ones I was supposed to meet and make nice to. If Josephine had her way, I would have spent every waking moment in meals, meetings and well-orchestrated “informal” get-togethers with every no-account noble who was bored or curious enough to make their way up to us.

I already had to get up earlier than I liked, but I’d put my foot down when Josie had floated the idea of _Breakfast with the Inquisitor_. There was no way in the void I was going to play Inquisitor before I’d had coffee and at least an hour to myself. 

I won that round, but she’d made me pay for it. The next four days were filled with endless meetings. There were meetings about money, meetings about social and logistical support, meetings to assure people we weren’t interested in invading, meetings to clarify we were not going to do personal or military favours for individuals or warring houses, and meetings to prove even though the Inquisitor was a mage, he was neither a blood-soaked lunatic nor an abomination. I swear she went out and recruited some of them just to make sure I didn’t have a moment to myself once I’d had that one hour I insisted upon.  

I ended up finishing my duties late every evening, invariably feeling tired and cross and antisocial. I’d eat whatever was fastest to get from the kitchen, drink a few bottles of beer to decompress and go to bed earlier than I liked in order to have my hour before the next round started. I saw Dorian for an hour or two usually, but I wasn’t very good company.

Still, Josie knew I had my limits. On the fifth day, after a late-morning meeting with my advisors that had stretched into early afternoon without accomplishing anything, I looked at her with weary trepidation. “Well, what’s next?”

Josie smiled. “Nothing.”

“Excuse me?”

Her smile broadened. “You have nothing scheduled. The rest of the day and night is yours. We’ve been running you ragged, so I thought you might like a day off.”

“Josephine, I could kiss you.”

Her cheeks reddened. “I think Dorian would rather you save that for him.”

“You’re right.” I grinned. “I shall go find him and inform him you _told_ me to give him your kiss.”

“Kai, you _wouldn’t_ ,” she gasped.

“I would and I am. I’m also getting out of here before you change your mind and find things for me to do.”

I escaped and went in search of Dorian, who of course had chosen that day to _not_ hang around the library like he usually did.

I found him at the Herald’s Rest, seated at a table on the second floor overlooking the main. Vivienne was with him, which no doubt meant they were critiquing everyone within eyesight and having a wonderful time. 

I like Vivienne well enough, but can’t help feeling tense around her. She’s a staunch traditionalist supporter of the Chantry-endorsed Circle system for mages, and given I was locked in one for eighteen years, I have a diametrically opposite opinion of them. She was in the Circles as well, but under her own terms for the majority of that time. She managed to get herself into a position of power where the rules didn’t apply to her, so as far as I’m concerned, she hasn’t a leg to stand on when she prattles on about how wonderful the Circles were.

Dorian noticed me first, smiling as I approached. “Amatus! Have they given you a moment to freshen up, or have you fled in a desperate attempt to avoid the inevitable aneurism unrelenting small talk will eventually cause?”

I laughed as I sat next to him, nodded hello to Vivienne. “Neither. I am _done._ I’ve nothing scheduled until at least tomorrow afternoon and I intend to pursue doing nothing Inquisitor-ish with aggressive dedication.”

At that moment a serving girl approached and said, “Would you like a drink, Inquisitor?”

Dorian smothered a laugh and even Vivienne looked amused as I said, “A beer, thanks,” and tried not to look annoyed.

We made desultory conversation for a while, then Vivienne excused herself. “You want to get out of here?” I asked Dorian.

“Not enjoying the ambience?”

I made a face. “Not particularly. Between the people who feel they have to say a respectful hello to the Inquisitor and the ones staring like they’ve never bloody seen me before, this is anything but relaxing.”

“Well, this is your first escape from official duties since we got back. There is a whole new gaggle of visitors that haven’t seen The Inquisitor in the flesh. But I agree — we should leave. From a purely selfish perspective, I haven’t had you to myself for days. I think it high time you remind me how much you adore me.”

We left the pub and walked along the battlements for a bit. There were less people up there and I felt a need to move after being locked in meetings for so long. “Who knew you could grow weary of a spectacular view?” I said, looking out across the snowy mountains.

“I daresay it’s because this particular spectacular view serves to remind one just how bloody cold it is here,” Dorian said with a theatrical shudder.

“We don’t have to stay out here. I just thought it would be a nice change for a few minutes. Was there anything in particular you wanted to do tonight?” For all that the place was huge, there really wasn’t much to _do_ in Skyhold. You could eat. You could drink at the pub (which, as I said, held its own special set of problems for me). You could read. The soldierly types trained quite a bit. _Everybody_ played cards and board games. It was really rather dull.

“I thought we might stay in if that’s all right with you. I’ve missed you, you know.”

“That’s very all right. The only people I’ve been able to talk to all week are the ones I didn’t _want_ to talk to. And I’ve missed you too.”

“Aren’t you cold yet? _Venhedis,_ the very idea that someone willingly decided to build a fortress up here.”

“Well, you do usually build a fortress to keep other people away.” 

“You’d think the mountains alone would do that.”

“I’ve been casting personal heat spells the whole time. Don’t tell me you haven’t?”

“I don’t see why I should have to,” he sniffed.

I laughed. “Fine, let’s go in. But you shouldn’t torture yourself like that. If you really like punishment, I can provide you something vastly more interesting.”

He blinked, looking surprised. “Really? When did you- You’re serious?”

“Yes, I’m serious.” I gave him what I hoped was a knowing look. “I have _depths_.”

“My, my, I am intrigued.” He gave me a slow smile back. “What _do_ they teach you here in the south?”

“I didn’t come straight from the circle to the Inquisition, you know.” We descended the stairs and headed for the lower floors of the great stone heap that was Skyhold.

“Everyone here seems to be under the impression that’s precisely what you did. If you remember, I asked you if you had, you started to tell me and then I believe we had to go close a rift. You promised you’d get back to it and what with all the wholesale slaughter and rift-closing, you never did.” 

“Sorry about that. I was surprised you asked. You know, you’re the only one that has.”

“That’s because I find you fascinating, while they’re a remarkably uncurious lot. They honestly think you’re a loyal Circle-ist or whatever they call themselves?”

“They just assumed, so I’ve let them.”

“Well aren’t you cheeky. You shall have to tell me everything, as once again I _am_ the first person to ask you.”

“And just for that I believe I’ll tell _only_ you everything. I doubt the others much care anyway. But I expect you to return the favour.”

He gave me a bright smile. “Another chance to talk about myself? I’m delighted to indulge your every curious question.”

We stopped at the kitchen, where I arranged to have our meals and refreshments sent up to my quarters, then climbed more stairs on our way there. “I’d love to know who thought it was brilliant to put the entrance to those quarters right in the main hall,” I complained.

“Well, as fearless leader, I suppose the thought was people would be aware of where you are at all times and comforted by that. I _am_ surprised none of said fearless leaders had a back door constructed. Back home that would be unheard of.”

“Everywhere I’ve ever heard of too. Makes me wonder about this place.” We entered the great hall. It wasn’t as densely populated with guests and hangers-on as earlier, but I still got _Inquisitor_ ed nearly all the way to the door to my quarters. I also heard the muttering about the fact that Dorian was with me. I ignored it as we stepped through the door. The moment it closed I slapped a ward on it. No one was getting through it without my explicit permission.

“ _Finally_ some privacy,” Dorian said, miming an operatic level of relief.

=#=

We ate a fine meal and had drinks brought up (beer for me, wine for him). As night fell, since there was no one around to get frightened or offended, we cast some proper light. I’d discreetly installed some permanently spelled glass globes around the room so all you had to do was cast light once and they’d last for hours before they needed recharging. It was a simple spell, but I'm sure the Chantry would have found a way to have a problem with it.

Not long ago, I’d discovered that Dorian was familiar with cribbage, so I’d used my vast power as Inquisitor to get a beautifully made board delivered to Skyhold. It’s a perfect game for two people to play. 

While we played, I told him a bit about what I’d done in the time between my leaving the Circle and joining (however involuntarily) the Inquisition, and he told me a bit more about his life in Tevinter before he’d come south for our fortuitous meeting. His life was quite a bit more exciting, of course. I hadn’t become a militant member of the rebellion or a militant anything, preferring to construct a life of my own away from the mage-templar conflict, and there’s only so much one can get up to in Ostwick.

Eventually we migrated over to the couch, but before one thing could lead to another, I remembered there was one other thing I wanted to talk about. “So you need to tell me something,” I said, pulling back from the embrace we’d been in.

“Right now?” He looked a little dismayed.

“If I don’t ask right now I’m going to forget and then later I’ll be annoyed again. I’d rather avoid that.”

“Surely you aren’t suggesting you’ll be annoyed with _me_?”

“Yes, actually.” I gave him a stern look. “I’m not just suggesting — I’m stating it.”

He affected shock. “How could I possibly be annoying?  I haven’t even gotten a _chance_ to annoy you for days.”

“I know it’s unthinkable, yet it’s true.”

“I am both aggrieved and wildly curious. I thought I’d been delightful tonight.”

I kissed him, wrapping my fingers in his hair and giving it just enough of a tug to feel interesting. “You have been. I’m sure you’ll continue to be. But first you’re going to tell me — what is your problem with moving in? I’m not asking you to marry me, you know.”

He sighed, running his hand idly down my arm and back up again. “It’s not that I don’t want to. It’s you I’m thinking about.”

I squinted at him. “What part of _I want you to move in_ do you not understand? It’s ridiculous, you skulking back downstairs at dawn. We’re not fooling anyone, you know.”

“It’s not so much trying to fool anyone, amatus, it’s the appearance of things.”

I frowned, got up to fetch a bottle of beer, cooling it with a freezing spell as I returned. “You need any?” I gestured at his wine glass.

“Hm. This might warrant a drop more. All right.”

I poured him some and resumed my place on the couch. “Well? How is your keeping your own quarters an altruistic gesture and not just a way to keep some distance?”

He frowned slightly. “Kai, when I said you’ve got me, I meant it. The last thing I want to do is keep my distance from you.”

I drank some of my beer. “But?”

“But you’re The Inquisitor and _I_ am a Vint mage. There are people who have a problem with that.”

“Would you like me to tell you how stunningly little that concerns me? I’m not overly fond of the Orlesian obsession with wearing masks. I also dislike the Chantry. Yet we have masked Orlesians and Chantry personnel running about all over the place here.”

“But only _you_ are leading this juggernaut. You can’t tell me you haven’t noticed some of the looks and comments we get as it is.” He sipped his wine, looking unhappy.

“I’ve heard them. I couldn’t give two fucks about it.”

He smiled a bit at that. “Is the magnitude of your uncaring reflected in the number of fucks you couldn’t give?”

“A single fuck couldn’t possibly encompass the magnitude of my uncaring, but more than two just sounds silly.”

“When it comes to language, you are an artist.” He ran a hand across my head and down to stroke my cheek, then gave it a light slap. “You are also being purposefully obtuse. You know very well why the talk concerns me. It reflects badly on you that you’ve taken up with me at all. If I move in with you, there will be those who will say I’m not just influencing you, but outright manipulating you.”

“There are also those who insist I’ve been chosen by the gods and they refuse to believe otherwise despite my flat-out denying it. People are going to believe what they want, Dorian. I’m not about to allow that to dictate my life. The Inquisition eats up enough of that as it is.”

He tilted his head to one side, looking at me through narrowed eyes. “Are you sure you’re not pushing this idea just to distress Mother Giselle?”

I laughed. “That is nothing but a fringe benefit. Maker, that woman sets my teeth on edge.”

“I’ve noticed.” He smiled into his wine glass and took another drink.  “You know she means well.”

I made a noncommittal noise. “You’re changing the subject. Move in. Or would you rather I move into that closet you call your quarters? I’d do it, you know.”

He’d moved into a room on the lower floors whose only redeeming qualities seemed to be that it had its own fireplace and a fairly large, sturdy wardrobe. Beyond that there was only enough room for a small nightstand and a narrow bed. It was really no wonder he spent most of his time up in the library.

“You’re just saying that.”

“Wanna bet? Do I have to describe my flat in Ostwick to you again?” Though to be honest, that place was easily four times the size of his room.

He shook his head, his tone somewhere between exasperated and amused. “You’d do it, too. Are you really that politically naïve? You can’t be.”

“I’m not. But you need to remember — though I’m very good at this job, I did not volunteer for it. Nor did I angle, beg or otherwise entreat people to let me do it. I’ll do the job well, and I badly want to take out Corypheus, but I feel no particular obligation to subsume my personal life for it. So if I want to move a remarkably attractive and brilliant Vint mage into my quarters, everyone else can just bloody live with that. I truly don’t give a damn. What are they going to do — fire me?”

“Well, when you put it that way…”

“I’d think rather than trying to talk me out of it, you’d be supporting the idea for the sheer subversive joy of it.”

“Yes, well those who don’t think you’re under Tevinter’s thumb will likely assume I’m your witless sexual toy.” He gave me an exaggerated pout.

“I’ll assure them you’re not at all witless.”

He chuckled. “Fine, then. You win. As you say, my current quarters are by no means up to my usual standards of elegance, and while yours have a certain stark beauty, they could use _some_ sort of aesthetic touch.”

“That stark beauty was achieved by having neither the time nor inclination to do any decorating whatsoever. You’re more than welcome to make changes.”

“Can I request we at least be discreet about it? I don’t have many belongings here, but I have enough that moving them all at once is likely to attract the wrong sort of audience.”

“Whatever you want.”

“Do tell?” He gave me a slow, sultry smile. “What I’d like right now is for you to stop talking and get back to what we were leading up to before you just _had_ to have this discussion.”

Well, I did say _whatever he wanted_.

=#=

When I woke the next morning, for once Dorian was still in bed next to me, though you could barely tell. He’d stolen most of the covers and burrowed under them so all I could see was a thatch of black hair. Even when it wasn’t particularly cold, he’d got himself convinced that he was.

Rationalizing if he was still asleep, I certainly should be, I wrested some of the blankets back and compensated by snuggling up next to him, at least until I fell back to sleep. The next time I opened my eyes, it was to find Dorian propped up on one elbow looking at me with a faint smile on his face.

“Hey,” I mumbled. “Was I talking in my sleep or something?”

“No, I was just thinking this is quite pleasant. Even knowing I’ll have to put up with you at your most coffee-deprived, I like this very much.”

“Good. I thought the same thing earlier, but you were still asleep.”  I stretched and rubbed my eyes. “And now you’ve got me thinking about coffee, but I don’t feel like finding someone to bring me any.”

“Back home you just cast a little spell and it alerts the servants that you need someone. There’s no need for all this nonsense with bellpulls or chasing servants down.”

“What do people who can’t spellcast do?” I propped myself up on an elbow so I could face him.

He blinked, nonplussed. “I haven’t the slightest. Perhaps there _is_ a use for bellpulls after all.”

“You’ll note whoever built this place didn’t even provide those.”

“But you do have your own private water closet.  I call that civilized at least.”

“It does go a long way towards compensating for the lack of bellpulls, I admit. If we end up staying here long enough I may get them to add a private shower as well.”

“Do that and I may never leave this suite.”

I grinned. “I’ll get right on it, then.”

“You know, you may find when we’re not traipsing about the noisome backwaters of southern Thedas living out of tents, I’m not as ideal as you think to cohabit with.”

“In what way?”

“I may leave clothes strewn every which way about the place and eat things with crumbs in bed.”

“You care too much about your clothes to strew them and if you’re planning on bringing crumbs to bed you can bloody well rent a room at a seedy inn.”

“Ooh, quite the pithy retort for so early in the morning.”

“Resorting to half-baked puns now?”

He rolled onto his back with a groan. “Amatus, it is far too early for this. You’re going to have me thinking of dreadful plays on words all day now.”

“You started it with your flimsy attempt to dissuade me from wanting you to move in. All you’ve done is confirmed for me that it’s a good idea.”

He gave me a narrow look. “You are far too fond of me. “

I affected surprise. “You’re always telling everyone how exceptional you are, yet you have trouble accepting it when I honestly agree with you?”

He was uncharacteristically silent for several moments. When he did start speaking, his voice was soft and serious. “I suppose I do. I can’t fathom why you think so highly of me, if I’m to be honest. I’ve…never had anyone _want_ to be with me like you do. Not without _wanting_ something, or _expecting_ something.”

“Technically, I do want something too,” I said.

“Yes, you just want… _me_.  To be myself. That’s rare, Kai. So rare, it’s a little frightening. I keep feeling that I should go running back inside Public Dorian, you know?”

“I do know. You think I let anyone else see this much of the real me? The Orlesians don’t seem to understand the most skillfully constructed masks aren’t made of paper and metal.”

“Yet you’re not afraid to _commit_ to this.” He propped himself back up on his elbow to look at me searchingly.

I smiled. “Perhaps I’m just more selfish than you. I want this and I want you. Why should I pretend I don’t? I just have to convince you that you want it as much as I do.”

He closed the distance between us and kissed me rather chastely.  “Don’t worry, I’m convinced. I also may be suffering from morning breath.”

“Dorian Pavus admitting to something as common as morning breath? It must be true love for you to confess such a thing.”

“Did anyone ever tell you you’re something of an arse in the morning?”

I levered myself up to a sitting position. “Frequently. Ugh. I shouldn’t have sat up that quickly.”

“You don’t have any appointments, do you? So lie back down. I’ll make it worth your while.”

He did, too.

(All right, he gave me a very nice massage, if you must know.)

Eventually we ventured back into Skyhold. It was - as always - annoying, having to walk out into the main hall just to leave my quarters. “I always wonder, don’t these people have anything better to do?” I muttered. “First priority — we are making a back door.” 

“I agree wholeheartedly. I adore attention, but prefer it on _my_ terms,” Dorian muttered back, acting the entire time like he was enjoying every moment of the scrutiny. “I sometimes image our more permanent hangers-on just scuttle back into the spaces between the walls at night like well-dressed rodents.”

“I find that imagery more unsettling than I should.”

We stopped at the entrance to Josephine’s office. “I’ll move my things in today, but discreetly,” Dorian said.

“Not an easy thing with our resident rodents watching,” I sighed.

“There are ways. Do you mind if I change the wards on your door a bit?”

“As long as I can still get in, go right ahead. I suppose I should tell my erstwhile advisors, even though it’s really not their business.”

“They might try to talk you out of it.”

“Let them try. As long as we’re risking our necks for the Inquisition, they haven’t a leg to stand on.”

He grinned. “You’re quite the rebel in your own quiet way, aren’t you?”

“I don’t know that I’m particularly quiet about anything.”

“Compared to me?”

I conceded him the point, gave him a kiss and we parted ways.

=#=

“So I just thought I’d let you know,” I finished with a half-shrug.

Leliana looked slightly amused; Josephine didn’t. Cullen wasn’t present for this impromptu meeting in Josie’s office; my living arrangements weren’t a military concern. “Is it really that important to you?” she said.

“Yes. That’s why I presented it to you as a done deal, not a request.”

“You know it’s politically unwise. There are those that will equate it with taking a soft line against Tevinter,” she said unhappily.

“We’re not fighting Tevinter. We’re fighting Corypheus.”

“But in future-”

I barked laughter. “Josie, there’s no guarantee we even _have_ a future, particularly those of us that have to go into the field. If Corypheus wins or we get slaughtered by some other bloody monster out there in the big, wide world, it’s not going to matter one bit who I was sharing quarters with.”

“We may lose support from some.”

“I’m sure we’ll survive. You thought we needed Chantry support not too long ago, yet we’ve muddled through without them.”

Surprisingly, Leliana spoke up. “I think we can give him this one, Josie. He is not going to back down, and if their relationship is secret, then it’s the worst-kept secret in the Inquisition.”

“Not to mention we’re not even here half the time,” I added.

Josephine threw her hands up in surrender. “All right, I give up. I will smooth any ruffled feathers among our more sensitive supporters. Just be aware you may encounter some hostility, both of you.”

“If it wasn’t this, they’d find some other reason to be hostile. We can handle ourselves.”

“Well then, if that’s settled, would you mind just having a word with Lord and Lady Delage? They’re quite influential in the salon circuit and they’ve come here in hopes of meeting you…”

I went back to work, though I was determined to make a short day of it this time. I wondered how Dorian was doing with his plan to move his things in subtly and unnoticed.

###

“Make way! Coming through! Delivery for the Inquisitor!” Sera marched grandly into the big hall at Skyhold, waving her arms about and shooing people out of the way, making a path for Dorian. He was carrying a large, heavy duffel bag and looking put-upon.

One of the masked Orlesian hangers-on stepped into her path. He was a chunky man dressed in far too much brocade. He said, “Excuse me?” as he made sure he was blocking her. He was holding a half-eaten mini tart in his right hand.

“Oi! What don’t you understand about make bloody way?” she demanded.

“I was just wondering if we might know what that object is,” he said with oily sincerity. “Is it something to help in the battle to come with that creature who caused the rifts? Or perhaps a valuable trophy? As a donor to the Inquisition, I believe I have a right to know.”

She chewed at her lower lip as Dorian set the big bag down, waiting with impatience for this interruption to go away. “Weeeeellll… I can’t tell just _anyone_ , but you’ve been hanging about here practically forever.” She looked around and motioned the man to come closer.

He leaned in. Even with the mask, she could see his excitement. She dropped her voice to a near-whisper. “It’s a dragon’s todger.”

“It’s a what?”

“ _You_ know.” She motioned broadly at her crotch. “Its _thing._ ” She laughed her manic laugh. “The males aren’t near as big as the females, but they’ve gotta be big enough to make little dragons together, yeah?”

“Its- um- quite. Oh my. What in the world is the Inquisitor going to do with it?”

“Dunno. He might need it for some sort of magic shite.” She paused, tapping her upper lip thoughtfully. “Or he might just wanna stuff it and display it. Anyways, we gotta get it upstairs before the non-rotting spell wears off, so move your arse!” She waved him away and he went, staring at the big bag as Dorian shouldered it again and proceeded to Kai’s quarters, the half-eaten tart forgotten.

They made it through the door and dropped the bag on the bed upstairs. “Home sweet home,” Dorian murmured. 

Sera said, “This is fun. How many more trips do we need to make? I can think of all sorts of mad shite to tell people it is.”

“You do know once he starts hearing the rumours you’ve started, he’s going to kill us,” Dorian said.

“No he won’t. I’m _helping_.” She chortled. “You think that bloke’s got one thought in his head about a Vint moving in with the holy Inquisitor?”

“I can say with a degree of certainty that he doesn’t,” Dorian admitted. “Incidentally, do dragons even _have_ ‘todgers’?”

“I dunno. But you can bet that pudgy pest didn’t know either.”

“From what I’ve observed, he primarily knows the timing of when they set out the snack trays, with a sideline in whatever gossip he can glean while consuming said snacks.”

“Is that the fancy way to say he’s a fat, gossipy twat?” She snickered. 

Dorian fiddled with his moustache, smiling faintly. “I suppose it is.”

“Well? Ready for the next load? Some of my ideas are the mutt’s nuts.” She gave him a mad grin.

“It shouldn’t take more than two more trips; I’ve just got some odds and ends left.” He led the way back downstairs, adding, “But he _is_ going to kill us.”

###

We had a little get-together in my -excuse me, _our_ quarters - that night. Very small, really — Bull had gotten wind that Sera was coming over for drinks and tagged along. They’d run into Blackwall on the way and Sera had insisted he join us. I know he was mainly there because he’s fond of Sera, but once he got a few drinks he relaxed enough to start enjoying himself. He even refrained from snarking at Dorian for being too highborn, though he couldn’t resist a few digs that he kept firmly on the humorous side.

We played Wicked Grace and didn’t talk about the Inquisition for a good couple of hours. Sera announced the private water closet alone was enough to ensure frequent visits from her, everyone told stories and jokes and got drunk but not stupid, and it occurred to me that I was having the most pleasant, _normal_ night I’d had in months.

The game ended and a half hour later my friends said good night and left. 

Dorian stayed.

“But I still don’t understand why of all things you told him you were bringing me a _dragon dong_ ,” I complained for the umpteenth time as we climbed back up the stairs. 

“ _I_ said nothing, amatus. That was all Sera’s doing. Look at it this way — the next time you’re at an Orlesian function, people might not be quite so eager to latch onto you.”

“Or I’ll get some very strange people wanting to be my friend.”

He laughed and diverted his path for a moment to throw more wood on the fire. “I must say, I’m enjoying having some _space_ again.”

“Huh. The truth comes out. You only want me for my square footage.”

“Nonsense. I would love you even if you only had _one_ balcony. Was it just me, or did this night feel positively _domestic_?”

I sat on the couch to unlace my boots. “It wasn’t just you. Are you okay with that?”

He stood by the fireplace for a moment, the flames sketching patterns of warm light on his skin. “Oddly enough, I am. I never thought I would be. You are changing me, Inquisitor, in ways I never imagined possible.”

I gave him a wry smile. “Let’s not bring him into this, shall we? Let me be Kai. He’s a much nicer person.”

“You’re right, and I apologize.” He crossed the room, thudding onto the couch next to me as I pulled my second boot off. “But it was because of The Inquisitor that we met, so I will thank him for that.” 

“Hm. You have a point. I will concede the Inquisitor can be a useful fellow at times.”

He shifted so he could face me, ran a hand down my thigh. “Still sure you want me here?”

“More than ever,” I assured him. His tone was playful, but his eyes were serious.

“I’ve never done anything like this before. I might make a terrible mess of it.”

“You talk like I’m some sort of expert. This is uncharted territory for me too, you know. Fortunately we’re both adept at improvisation.”

“Well, you’re not to tell anyone I was this concerned. It’s because I love you and it’s a very unsettling state to be in at times. Oh, and we desperately need another dresser and a proper wardrobe up here.”

“We’ll get them,” I said around a yawn. “And I love you too.” 

We got ready for bed, turning out the lights with a thought.

I lay in the dark, hovering on the edge of sleep. I could hear Dorian breathing evenly next to me, spared a moment to be grateful he doesn’t snore.  And for a while, at least, I could feel some hope that everything really would work itself out to be this good for more than a few fleeting days.


End file.
